


Esoteric

by grimdarkpixels



Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Basically what if Lee was found after the end of the game, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Loosely based on Cryaotics lets play, Major Character Death but he's already a walker so ????, Mild Gore, My First AO3 Post, No Time Left, Spoilers for a 5 year old game, in the sense that Lee amputated his arm and clementine left him behind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-04 01:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12159009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimdarkpixels/pseuds/grimdarkpixels
Summary: I looked back at the roamer. He had short, black hair and a sort of unkempt beard. He looked like the kind of person who could be a dad, or a leader, or some kind of authority figure. Of course, none of that would’ve done a damn thing to save him from death itself.





	Esoteric

We were moving so slowly. Too slowly. They were all around us, staring blankly at us like any second they would smell us under the gore covering our bodies. I held Ruth’s hand tighter and cringed at the feeling of cold, squishy entrails spreading from her hand to mine.

Ruth pointed somewhere to our left. “There,” she whispered. “That’s our way out.”

I looked over to where she was pointing. It was a pretty unassuming off-white door with a powered-off “EXIT” sign above it. There was a peculiar blood pattern covering it, like someone was painting with the stuff. Didn’t exactly spell “safe” to me.

“Why that door?” I whispered back, trying not to alert the roamers around us.

“Because it says it’s an exit and it’s the only door without roamers directly in front of it. Look, do you see anywhere else we can catch our breath without getting eaten alive or what?”

She made a fair argument, but I resented her tone of voice, so I pressed further. “What if there are roamers in there?”

“Did you forget you have a fucking machete? Look, we’ll be fine. Come on,” she said with finality, pulling me towards the door. The handle was stuck, but she jostled it open with little trouble. She pulled me inside and closed the door behind her, resting her back against it.

Then we heard the telltale groan of a roamer.

“Shit!” I hissed, drawing my machete and waving it in front of me.

“Oh, god,” Ruth said, pointing through the broken window into the gift shop. “Toby, look.”

I stepped closer to the door separating us from the roamer and looked through the broken window. Instead of a vicious, dangerous beast, I saw something that was just…sad.

It was a roamer all right, but it was totally harmless. One arm was missing, the bandaged stump waving in our direction, probably trying to grab us with the arm it forgot it lost. The other arm was handcuffed to the radiator next to it, keeping it from getting up and attacking us. The roamer’s clothes were covered in gore, like we were. The roamer kept snarling and snapping, but unless his wrist rotted off, he wasn’t hurting anyone.

“Shit,” I breathed, putting my machete away. I felt my shoulders sagging, like my torso wanted to fall to the floor, but my legs knew better.

Ruth nodded. “Looks like he either got bit and tried to stop it or got caught in some trap.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” I replied. Neither of us said anything for a while. Instead we just stood there, looking at him.

“Who do you think cuffed him?” Ruth asked.

“Huh?”

“He’s got one arm. He sure as hell didn’t cuff himself to that thing. Unless that roamer under the pedestal decided to cuff him instead of just gutting the poor bastard.”

I scoffed a little. “I don’t think roamers would have the fine motor skills required to chain one of their own down.”

“It was a joke, Toby.” Ruth sighed. “Still, you can’t help but wonder, can you? There’s a story to this guy. Who was he before he turned? Did he have a family? Where did they end up? Did they ever find out he ended up like…”

She trailed off, then scoffed. “It’s weird to think that every roamer has a story. How long did they survive? How many friends did they lose before they died? Were they tortured? Did they throw themself into the herd to end it all? Were they wounded and left to turn? These are important questions, but you never really stop to ask them unless you see a roamer where it shouldn’t be.”

I just stood in silence, listening to her. She had a point; every roamer out there was human once. For the first few weeks, I _was_ asking those questions. But now there are so many you forget they were ever anything more than bloodthirsty monsters.

I looked back at the roamer. He had short, black hair and a sort of unkempt beard. He looked like the kind of person who could be a dad, or a leader, or some kind of authority figure. Of course, none of that would’ve done a damn thing to save him from death itself.

“So what do you think?” I asked. Ruth stared at the floor and sighed and stood in contemplation for a moment, then she shrugged. “We put his soul to rest. I mean, I’m sure he’s not gonna mind.”

“You wanna give me the gun or…?”

Ruth pressed her head against the door we came in. Even without doing so, I could hear the roamers outside. They hadn’t left or gotten fewer in numbers. I took the hint and unsheathed my machete again before opening the door. The roamer got more aggressive, swinging his stump at me to no avail. I raise my machete over him and feel a wave of guilt wash over me.

“I’m sorry about this, man.”

I bring my machete down on his skull, embedding it several inches into the roamer’s skull. He slumps against the radiator, dead for a second time.


End file.
